The Seven Deadly Sins
by Karla YtF
Summary: Of Harry James Potter. Probably of the other characters, eventually. Dark!Harry


**The Seven Deadly Sins**

Karla

**Of Harry James Potter**

_A man's most glorious actions_

_will at last be found to be but glorious sins,_

_if he hath made himself,_

_and not the glory of God,_

_the end of those actions._

* * *

_**Lust**_

_"...Getting through the portrait hole was simple; as he approached it, Ginny and Dean came through it.."_

_- Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_

How did it go to far? You ask yourself.

How can you even recognize now that it indeed went too far? Because you are lost, lost within your thoughts, lost within the desires of not only your heart but specially your mind. That mind you always trusted in, that mind that tells you to keep fighting, to never give up, the same mind that asked you to do it.

Few months ago, Dean Thomas was only what he always was since that very first year, a friend, not a close one, not a beloved one, not even a trustful one, only a friend to have fun with. Not what he is now, not what you made of him now.

The Felix Felicis did its work in the must glorious ways. The desire to go see Hagrid was numbed by this other desire, the one you got when you saw them together, the one that's making you smile at the sight of your actions.

You see Harry, he's dead now and I bet you don't even remember how you did it but he's dead now and you killed him.

And she, the reason of your delusions, is tied in the bed.

* * *

_**Gluttony**_

_"He could tell that Dumbledore understood, that he might even suspect that until his letter arrived, Harry had spent nearly all his time at the Dursleys' lying on his bed, refusing meals, and staring at the misted window, full of the chill emptiness..."  
- Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_

It wasn't because of his death, it wasn't because of all the agony you saved and released at the same time. No, it wasn't because of Sirius. Deep down you probably hate him now, he left you all alone.

No, you couldn't eat, you wouldn't eat here, in this poisonous house you hate so badly and it wasn't because of the woe of loosing the only father you've ever known, you hardly remember his face anymore.

No, you stopped taking the food for a completely different reason, for a much undemanding reason. You stopped because you feel full.

So full that you don't think you could take another breath, your stomach, your chest, your mind are about to explode, you are so full.

Because you kept eating and eating, for all these years you did nothing but eat, eat the bitterness, eat the torture, eat the butchery, eat the hate and now you hate, you hate so badly. You hate Voldemort for choosing to believe in a foolish prophecy, you hate your parents for dying so easily, you hate Dumbledore for using you and your friends for being there when you don't deserve it.

You can't eat food anymore and yet you keep eating hate. Now you hate yourself more than anything.

* * *

_**Greed**_

_"Timidly she pushed it onto his lap, a pristine copy of The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.  
__Harry looked down upon Dumbledore's face and experienced a surge of savage pleasure..."_

_- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

The power, that you could have it anytime you want; you are, after all, The Chosen One. No, it wasn't the power.

You just wanted more, more than he ever had and The Hallows, the so desired hallows that he always hunted for, would be exactly _more_.

And yet, you wanted some more, so ripping through the past, through his name, was a lot, was indeed _more_. And you kept dwelling there, ploughing, destroying every memory, mocking at his stupidity. Who would be fooled for such a pathetic man like Grindelwald? Who would let anything happen to a family? Who would anyone hide so many things from you? You, who did everything Dumbledore asked for.

And yet you wanted more.

So when the death came and along came Dumbledore you took it, his dignity, his arrogance. Something more.

* * *

_**Sloth**_

_"He turned away and ran up the marble staircase. Lupin, Tonks… "_

_- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

You were so tired, so exhausted. This was too much, this was everything and you just wanted to rest.

And so you heard the scream of Dora so devastating, begging you for help, rambling something about Remus and Dolohov with the most agonist voice you've ever heard, but you were so tired.

So close your eyes Harry and turn around, don't mind Bellatrix, who is approaching to Dora from behind.

* * *

_**Wrath**_

_Nothing happened. The frustrated face looking back out of the mirror was still, definitely, his own…_

_Harry remained quite still for a moment, then hurled the mirror back into the trunk where it shattered. _

_- Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_

Shattered, broken like all the hopes you had, hopes of a family, hopes of a normal life. The room was empty, so silent, so different from the very inside of you, screaming against the skin, asking to release everything you've been containing.

And you took the oil lamp, the bottles, the pillows, everything, everything you could take and throw to the walls, destroying all you can, like they've destroyed your life, killing everyone on it, everyone who's loved you enough.

- Harry... - You can barely see Ron standing in the door, afraid of taking another step. So stop and face him but devoid of lies this time, without pretending you can take everything.

- GET OUT!. - He jumps on his feet. Probably the whole Hogwarts did.

- Just... - Still trying to help, they don't get it.

Ron stares at your eyes, while his expression of fear increases. Your face must be really frightening; it must be revealing everything you wanted to reveal.

- I SAID GET OUT!. - Once again you yell as loud as anyone could yell, throwing some other stuff you had in your hand, hitting in a spot right next to the wall behind Ron.

Almost trembling and swallowing, Ron walked away.

* * *

_**Envy**_

_Had Voldemort chosen Neville, it would be Neville sitting opposite Harry bearing the lightning-shaped scar and the weight of the prophecy... Or would it?_

_Would there then have been no "Chosen One" at all? _

_An empty seat where Neville now sat and a scarless Harry who would have been kissed good-bye by his own mother, not Ron's? _

_- Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_

And you wished his life as your own so badly, you wished the decision of Voldemort be changed, you wished him dead because by all means, you wished a life that never existed, two parents that never go to see their kid grow up, a dream, a foolish dream.

So when Neville Longbotton appeared behind the portrait of Ariana, with all those scars, all those marks and that old face, you felt secretly good, so good. And you didn't stop staring at his face, feeling pleasure at the sight of a clear torture. If you couldn't have his life, he shouldn't have it either.

But your inner smile faded, for he was happy, full of hope and yes, smiling. Happy, as you never could be.

So when the time to die came and Neville walked in there, still old, still hurt, still happy, you envied him the most and with the purpose of not let him have a life that you never had, you gave him the task of killing the serpent, a task you hope, would take his life, your life.

* * *

_**Pride**_

_He did not know why he was doing it, why he was approaching the dying man: he did not know what he felt as he saw Snape's white face, and the fingers trying to staunch the bloody wound at his neck._

_"Look...at....me..." he whispered._

_- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

You didn't know why you were approaching, yet you knew. The feeling of victory, the feeling of knowing you right, of feeling you the best, the one who got to see the other bleeding in the floor, the one who smiled at the death of the other. That's why you were doing it.

After all you were the best, the magnificent and he was nothing but scum, food of serpent. But the need, the desire of looking at him from above, of he looking back to you, knowing he had lost, that desire, you couldn't control.

You wanted him to know how superior, how startling you were, you wanted to denigrate him, you wanted your smiling, mocking face to be his last image of this world.

_Look at me_, he said, and you looked. Yet you saw no denigration, no frustration.

So let his body there, to rot as he deserved in life.

Why, days later, even knowing the truth, you made his body disappeared and put him in a place never to be found? Now that you were aware that he never betrayed anyone.

You would never accept it, though, that he could have been a little better... Not than you, never than you, that, no one could.

* * *

**Notes**:

I may, hopefully, write next chapters with other characters :) Depends on the reviews, if you want to, I mean ;)

I took the idea from DreamsofSpike, who took it from someone else and so on, you probably already read it somewhere.

God, Books 1 to 4 have no angsty power! Or maybe they do but Harry is still a child on those, who can regret anytime. I believe that what he did from books 5 to 7, that is who he really is.

Reviews, yes, please.

**24 ****April**** 2009**


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